A/N: this punishment is not meant to represent a 'good' BDSM punishment - specifically to the type of relationship Ellis and Frankie have (it might be a fine one in a relationship where such boundaries have been previously established, but that isn't what these guys have done, and it shows Frankie's uncertainty and his loss of control over the situation)

Ellis

I'm panting when I awake, sweat across my brow, my head throbbing so hard I feel nauseous. Light is streaming into the room, which is no surprise as Sir never closes the shutters, preferring to wake with the morning light, at the ass crack of dawn. Normally I can sleep through it, as, in fact, I did today, although this is one day I would have preferred to have woken earlier, still feeling the dream as it shudders through my consciousness.

"Morning, Ellis," François comes in carrying a tray with breakfast things, positioning it carefully on the bed. "Come here and let me feed you."

"Not necessary, Sir, I can feed myself," I pout; I'm not some baby.

"Ellis," Sir's voice is warning, "do as you're told. No arguments today. You already have a punishment due." I try to smile. I never used to get punishments for sulking, well I did, but not all the time. Recently, since I moved in, that's what all my punishments seem to be about. I have to do better. I know Sir likes well behaved subs. I've met some of his ones from the past, and they were all, without fail, perfectly angelic; the polar opposite to me even on a good day, and I haven't had many good days lately. I try not to be jealous. Sir has been telling me he loves me since two weeks into this, and I have no real reason to doubt him. But when I see those boys, all so much better than me, all taking to this so naturally, when, for me, it's a daily fight to do the right thing, to keep his approval, it's hard not to doubt, a little bit. He hates it when I express misgivings like that, so I've learned to keep them to myself – he tells me my confidence is one of his favorite things, so for him, that's who I'll be. I don't know what I'll do if he works out it's fake; that me, and the person he loves, aren't the same person.

When he's fed me, humiliatingly, though it isn't even part of my punishment, he gives me twenty minutes to prepare and present myself in the playroom. He doesn't speak when he enters, he doesn't need to, it isn't like I don't know what I'm being punished for, but I hope he'll give me something good too. I need him right now, I'm aching for him to show I'm still right for him, that he still cares. I move with him when he has me stand and binds me with cuffs to the chain that hangs from the ceiling. He fixes a silken blindfold to my face, which sends shivers down my spine, because I can't see his moves, or his expression. I feel the spreader bar being attached to my ankles, spreading my legs, though my feet can still stay flat on the floor, which might be a bad sign, as it means he isn't planning on going easy on me. When the plug enters me I hiss; it's one of the larger ones, and he hasn't used much lube – he wants it to hurt. I bite my lip. I won't get upset that he's so mad. I deserve punishment. I haven't been doing what he expects, and it isn't like it's so hard to be good.

I sense him move away, though he's quiet, and he leaves me for a while, I don't know how long, but I'm trembling a little in anticipation, fearful over how bad it might be. When the crack of the whip comes I scream instinctively at the sharp snap across my back. It must be a whip, because I can feel the cutting edges, and there's no way that pain has come from anything that can provide pleasure. I don't know if it's breaking my skin but it feels like it is, slicing and cutting. It's okay though, I deserve it, even if Sir has never used anything this harsh on me before, I know he's let a lot of incidences go, so maybe if I can make up for them all now, he can forgive me. I'm biting my lip so hard, in between screams, that I can taste blood. I want it to stop, but it won't stop, I know it won't, I just have to make it to the end. I can't run. I can't hide.

Finally, there's silence, no more movement, no more whistling of the tail through the air. The pain is there, as the sweat from my back rolls into the cuts, but I did it, and all I need is my Master to be pleased with me.

"You did good, baby," he murmurs as he holds me, and I ignore the sting of his own sweat now, the feel of him holding me making everything better.

"Thank you, daddy," I mumble; something I say when I feel extra-much like a good boy, which I do when I know I've taken a punishment really well. He draws out the plug now, painfully, but thankfully has more lube on his fingers, which he coats my insides with before he slams home. I maybe could use a little more gentleness now, but he needs this as much as I do.

François

I apply the soothing aloe and some antibacterial cream to Ellis' back, which is crisscrossed with the marks of the cat. There're a few areas where the skin has broken, but it will be healed in a few days. He needed this, I'm certain. I needed it. I've been feeling out of control, like he hasn't offered me the respect I have to have as his Dominant. His behavior has been getting steadily worse – belligerent, sulky, back chat. And the fact that I know he knows what his nightmares are about, but he refuses to talk to me about it. A good punishment lets me know I still have the skills I need, I just have to get through to him. I have to, there's no choice here. I can't let him go.

He falls asleep after his punishment, so peaceful and beautiful.